


The Friendliest Fire

by Coalmine301



Series: Whumptober 2020 [13]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Brutal Murder, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Friendly Fire, Gen, Heavy Angst, Interrogation, Investigations, It happens earlier and only to the 212th, Mind Control, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Being an Asshole, Temporary Amnesia, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: “Waxer, what is it?” Rex almost didn’t want to know the answer.“Something happened to the others,” the other clone panted out. “I- I don’t know what- we recovered first... they... we…” he took a shuddering breath. “It’s really bad. You need to get down here. Fast.”
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Whumptober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908538
Comments: 13
Kudos: 219
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Officer down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whumptober prompt "Broken Bones"

Up in his lavish office Supreme Chancellor Palpatine paced in frustration. No matter what he threw at that insufferable man Kenobi just stubbornly refused to die. Oh he had come close several times but had always bounced back to taunt him.  
If explosions couldn’t do it and poison couldn’t do it and not even professionally hired assassins could do it… then what could possibly kill Kenobi now?

/There’s always plan B./

Palpatine paused, mulling over the new thought in his head. Yes, he supposed that was always an option. 

Implanted from birth in the head of every clone was a control chip. A chip that, once activated, would ensure the clones would follow out any orders demanded of them. Even kill their “beloved” generals. Yes, the foolish Jedi in their pathetic Order could all be whipped out in the briefest blink of an eye.

It wouldn’t be good to activate the whole order now, not for every battalion at least. Oh, that day would still come. He would just have to wait a little longer for that.

But the 212th were on a mission by themselves with only Kenobi leading them. One battalion should be enough to take out the pesky Jedi. If the rumors of the Jedi were true then Kenobi would likely have a hard time striking back at his own men. And that would only make their job easier. Either way Kenobi will finally die.

Of course Skywalker and the 501st were close enough to lend aid should anything go wrong. But Palpatine knew perfectly well that even if they rushed to the side the exact moment the order was given they would be far too late to save Kenobi. 

And should he play his cards right public distrust of the clones would merely grow. 

A malicious chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. Yes, this will work beautifully.

* * *

“I know I can always count on you, Cody,” his general had been saying.

“Anytime, sir,” the clone remarked dryly as he once again handed the idiot his lightsaber. If only the redhead could manage to hold onto it… one of these days he was going to get himself killed. 

The general merely chuckled and patted Cody’s shoulder before turning away to go do something else. The battle was over and Grevious had once again scuttled away just out of reach. They’d have to alert the Council and send someone after him. Hopefully before the cyborg got too far away...

Cody had idly glanced down and was surprised to see his comm link flashing with an incoming message. His fingers instinctively moved to answer it. The person on the other end was perhaps the last one Cody expected to see.

“Chancellor,” he greeted, instinctively straightening his posture. “What can I do for you?”

* * *

“General?”

At first Skywalker didn’t respond, head still cocked slightly to the side. They had been in the middle of a debrief when he and Ahsoka had both suddenly gone quiet. Rex was just about to ask again when the blonde finally spoke. 

“Something’s wrong,” the blonde said. 

It was at that moment Rex’s comm came to life with a chirp. Waxer’s form appeared before them in a flash of blue light. 

Immediately Rex could tell something was wrong. The front of his armpit was splattered with blood and even with his helmet the clone looked like he was on the verge of throwing up. 

“Waxer, what is it?” He almost didn’t want to know the answer.

The clones were designed to be resilient, unflappable. Seeing his brother so blatantly flapped, especially a seasoned warrior like Waxer was… it was enough for the lead-heavy weight of dread to settle in his stomach. 

“Something happened to the others,” the clone panted out. “I- I don’t know what- we recovered first... they... we…” he took a shuddering breath. “It’s really bad. You need to get down here. Fast.”

Rex risked a glance at the general who only gave a nod in response. “On our way, vod,” the captain replied before shutting the transmission off.

The briefing room had long since fallen silent. As he glanced around Rex saw the same clenched jaws that spoke of uneasiness amongst his vode.

He had a bad feeling about this...

* * *

CC-2224 swung his leg, landing a vicious impact against the bearded man’s side. The traitor jerked with a hoarse scream as a lovely crack rang out. Those beautiful sounds were enough to tell he broke ribs with such a blow.

He was just barely reeling his leg back for another strike when Boil’s heavily armoured boot slammed into the traitor’s leg. The vicious crack sounded almost as beautifully as the cry of agony torn from the downed man’s throat. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice was screaming, shouting that something was wrong, begging for him to stop. CC-2224 merely pushed it aside. Now was not the time for sympathy. Now was time for sweet sweet vengeance. 

How many brothers died because of this man? How many were killed because of this man’s reckless tactics? Countless vode were lost to this man’s orders. He may not have killed them himself but he might as well have.

Most of them had died in horrendous, agonizing pain. It was only fair the traitor suffered the same treatment. 

And oh it was beautiful.

* * *

Kenobi was almost unrecognizable when they finally found him. Charred blaster wounds riddled his battered corpse. One eye had been gouged out, the remaining orb staring sightlessly ahead. Kenobi’s robes were torn and stained with his own blood. Jagged shards of bone stabbed out through bruised skin. Most noticeably 

His silver lightsaber remained hooked untouched on his belt.

Rex would never forget the noise Skywalker made when he caught sight of the redhead. He had bolted forward before crashing to his knees at the side of his fallen mentor, best friend, and brother in all but blood. 

With a choked sob Skywalker gathered the corpse into his arms. His lips moved, murmuring words to someone beyond hearing them, but couldn’t make out what was being said. Occasionally he’d read “I’m sorry” but everything else was a mystery. It wasn’t for him to know. 

The captain knew he would never forget the sight of Skywalker cradling Kenobi’s cold body, tears streaming down his tanned face.

Nor would he forget the blankness in the eyes of the 212th standing there. Waxer and a few others seemed more alert, but kept their heads down and their expressions blank. 

The clones simply stared off into space, not truly seeing their blue and white clad brothers moving about them. Neither did they acknowledge the crumpled form of their general on the ground. 

He wasn’t sure who it was but someone noticed the crimson splattered across their brother’s white and gold armour. Not even Matrix, the medic, bore untainted plastoid.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

The only question was why. Kenobi and the 212th had always been close, even a blind man could see how much they trusted each other. In fact once or twice when out drinking Rex had heard Cody slip and call Kenobi a “vod”. One of the brothers.

So what could possibly convince the 212th to suddenly turn on not just their leader, but one of their own?

* * *

When Cody came to at first he wasn't sure just where he was. Stark white walls surrounded him on three sides with a ray-shield on the last. And just outside he could see a familiar form dressed in blue and white armour.

“Rex!” He called out, noticing how the blonde stiffened. “Rex, what happened?”

His brother turned slowly, warily slowly, with a haunted look in those amber eyes. “You… don’t remember?”

Remember what? “No I… I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” He replied equally warily. It wasn’t like his brother to be so cryptic. “Are the men alright?” A stiff nod. “Is the general alright.”

Rex hesitated, an odd emotion flickering across his gaze. Grief? Fear? Whatever it was, it was enough to turn Cody’s blood to ice. 

“Rex?” No reply. “Rex, is Kenobi ok?” Still no response. “Rex! Rex, tell me, is he-”

“Kenobi is dead!” The blonde suddenly snapped.

Cody froze, eyes widening in horror before dropping to the floor. No it- it couldn’t be. Everything was fine just a few minutes ago, he was sure of it.

Slowly, the memories of the past filtered back to him. They had just won a victory, a hard-won victory. One with few casualties. He remembered being annoyed at someone escaping -Maul? Grievous? Dooku?- but couldn’t remember who. He hadn’t thought the escapee had posed a threat. Had he been wrong?

“No, that- that can’t be,” he stated in disbelief. “Everything was fine, we- we- we won the battle. We were right with him. We- we would have protected him!”

It was then he had finally mustered up the courage to look Rex in the eye. His brother looked sick now, his tanned face strikingly pale. “Rex?”

Without another word the Captain turned and walked away. “Rex! Rex, what happened?” The blonde didn’t answer Cody’s desperate calls, jaw fiercely clenched.

And before he knew it Cody was alone once more. Alone to sort through his memories. 

Just what had happened?


	2. Can you tell me what happened?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are asked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Febuwhump prompt "Mind Control"
> 
> ...even though ther's no actuall mind control in this chapter  
> ah well, schemantics

“Do you truly not remember anything?”

Cody blinked, a persistent wrinkle making itself at home on his forehead. Kix watching him carefully. Invisible gears turned in his brother’s confused mind.

“I-I don’t,” the commander replied. “Is there something I should?”

The medic didn’t respond, instead bending to jot a note down on his datapad.

Without even looking up, he could tell the commander was uneasy. Sure he sat up straight with his arms settled relaxed in his lap. But Kix had enough experience with his brothers and army regulation to know it was just a mask.

They both knew the wall-to-wall mirror just behind Kix wasn’t just a mirror.

On the other side no doubt stood the 501st’s captain, general, and oh so young commander. 

At last Kix sat back, looking Cody directly in the eye. “Can you tell me what happened that day on Utapau?”

The commander swallowed dryly. “We were on a mission from the Council. They had received word Grievous was in the sector and had chosen the gen-” pain flashed across his features “had chosen Kenobi to go hunt him down.”

Kix found himself nodding. All of this was common knowledge of course. Kenobi and Grievous had an infamous rivalry going, each trying in vain to subdue the other. As such Kenobi was the general most in-touch with the coughing clanker’s tactics. 

Yes, all this Kix knew. What he wanted to find out was what happened next. Why the 212th chose to gun down one of their own.

“What happened next, commander?”

“The general went down alone, tried to talk to the natives and gather intel. Meanwhile we floated just out of the atmosphere, out of range of any CIS scanners.”

“Reports indicated Kenobi was planetside for close to three hours before his fighter returned,” Kix prompted. “Tell me, what were you doing up there the whole time?”

“Scanning for enemy ships, either dropping in from hyperspace or jumping out. Standard procedure.”

“And did you encounter any?”

“No, sir.”

Only the sound of gloved fingers on an augmented keyboard filled the silence. 

“So, when the general returned to the Negotiator-”

“He didn’t.”

Kix blinked. “Sorry?”

“Only his fighter came back while he stayed on Utapau,” Cody explained. “R4 said they were being watched.”

“By who?”

The commander shrugged. “Probably Grievous or the seppies planetside. Don’t know for sure. Anyway, it just meant we had to be extra sneaky with our landing.”

“Did you leave a crew onboard as you went down?”

Cody blinked. “Of course.”

Once again, it was standard procedure. And, properly caffeinated, Cody was all about standard procedure. That was part of the reason for his nickname “Codes”. He could probably recite and follow every military doctrine by heart.

Well, except for the doctrine saying you shouldn’t gun down your superior officer-

Kix shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind with an internal scowl. Now was not the time to get himself worked up. He was supposed to be maintaining a calm facade while examining what the 212th had to say.

Only then could they get to the bottom of this.

“Did you find Grievous?” he asked.

“Of course,” the commander replied. “Kenobi commed us for backup just before engaging. Grievous tried to escape and Kenobi pursued after him on a local beast. A varactyl, I think. For a second I actually thought today would be the day we actually capture that _demagolka_.”

“Did you?” Kix questions, even though the question was mostly rhetorical.

Cody shook his head with a scowl. “Of course not,” he replied bitterly. “For a second I thought we could finally take him in. But that damned clanker scuttled away as always.” His lips suddenly peeled back in a snarl. “And now that thing has killed my general.”

_(Kix wouldn’t know, but it was that line that Anakin Skywalker decided he had stood here long enough. With only a short huff, the blonde turned and semi-stormed from the observation room._

_He could feel Ahsoka and Rex’s gazes following him. Could feel their concern against his shields._

_He didn’t care._

_Anakin couldn’t spend one more minute in that room and watch that man pretend to grieve his former Master. His best friend. His brother in all but blood._

_Not when Obi-wan’s blood still lay thick on the clone’s hands.)_

“Do you have any idea where Grevious might have escaped to?” Kix asked.

It was obvious Cody was struggling to return his face to a neutral expression. Yet somehow he managed. “No sir.”

The medic nodded a little to himself as he typed in the last few words. “What else do you remember?”

“Not a lot, sir,” the commander admitted. “Just that the report that grievous escaped. Again. And then we were all regrouping on some kind of landing bay… after that it’s all fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy how?”

“Well, ‘fuzzy’ isn’t the right word,” Cody admitted. “More like… well, one minute I was standing on the landing platform and the next I woke up in a cell on The Resolute.” 

“And… you don’t have any clue as to what happened?” Kix prodded almost hesitantly.

“None.”

At that the medic took a deep breath in an effort to steady himself. “I see.”

That had been the last question. 

Kix nodded at the mirror, indicating interrogation was over. For now.

Cody sighed, his posture relaxing.

The medic said nothing. Instead he simply stood, gathering his supplies to leave.

It was when he was almost at the door that Cody spoke.

“What’s gonna happen to me now, vod?”

The medic sighed coming over to stand by the commander’s chair. “I don’t know, Cody,” he replied. “We’re gonna figure this out.” The ‘we always do’ was left unsaid. 

But not unheard.

It was with a brief shoulder squeeze that the 501st’s medic swept out the door.

Fives and Jesse would be back in a few minutes to return the prisoner back to his cell. In the meantime the commander was left alone with his thoughts. His horrible, horrible thoughts.

What Cody didn’t tell Kix was that he did remember. Not at first, but after several days in holding it all had gradually come back.

He almost wished it hadn’t.

He remembered the feel of a commlink in his hand, fingers curled around it. He remembers some sort of command -no, an order- being given from the figure on the other end of the call. He remembers an odd sensation as if a cold hand slid over the back of his skull. 

Cody remembers hate. Hate directed at a man who had only given love in return.

His best friend. His brother in arms.

His Jedi.

And then came the memories. 

Kenobi on the ground, minus an eye. Clones on all sides. Hisses and jeers falling from their mouths.

He swung an armoured leg, the plastoid making brutal contact with the general’s ribs. The redhead gasped, face scrunching in pain. 

Cody stomped on a leg, hard enough to hear the crunch of bone. Hear the Jedi scream.

His brothers cheered. He felt triumph coarse through his veins.

It sickened him.

But it would not make the memories stop. Nor would it change the past.

The clone rested his elbows on the table, head held in shaking hands.

“I’m sorry, General.”

Another memory: _“Come on, Cody, you don’t have to call me General,” Kenobi grinned at him, azure eyes flashing happily. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”_

Cody just barley choked back on a sob.

“I’m so sorry, Obi-wan.”


	3. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What, you thought it was over? Oh no, my friend. The pain never ends! >:)))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame my Discord for being the bloodthirsty enablers they are

He had never seen it coming.

War brought people together like nothing else. And in only a year Obi-wan and the clones had learned to love and trust each other. It didn’t matter they were grown in a lab with the sole purpose for killing. They had become as much his brothers as Anakin was.

And so he was unprepared for the plastoid fist colliding with his jaw. Nor was he for the second fist to his gut. Or the boot to the back of his knee.

Crashing down onto his knee, the Jedi could only stare up at his friends in confusion. Even without the force their scorn was palpable.

Was it something he said? Was this revenge for some slight he hadn’t thought much of at the time? What had he done to anger them so?

Cody reached out to cup Obi-wan’s cheek, the plastoid impossibly cold against his skin. 

He could feel the commander’s smirk behind his helmet. “Good soldiers follow orders.”

And then a plastoid thumb was jabbed into the Jedi’s eye socket. 

Instinctively Obi-wan screamed and tried to struggle, but it was no use. Cody’s hold was as solid and unshakable as durasteel. The clones’ bodies were bred for war after all, they knew how to use them.

Obi-wan wasn’t entirely sure how it happened but sooner or later he ended up on the ground. He tried to curl up and protect his organs but the blows were coming from all sides now. On his back. His gut. His legs. His skull. Nowhere was safe from their assault.

Someone’s boot made vicious contact with his side, tearing a fresh scream from his lips.

The clones cheered.

And through it all the only thing he could think was “why?”

Someone was saying something, just barely audible over the snarled jeers. The pad of bloodied plastoid boots against the metal landing pad signalled the clones stepping back.

For a moment Obi-wan was naive enough to believe it was over.

Then the first blaster bolt tore through his shoulder.

The jedi screamed, back arching in pain. A battered hand flew up to the wound and Obi-wan was startled to feel wetness under his fingers.

Another shot impacted in his back. It didn’t go all the way through, but it burned hot enough to send burning agony through his spine. Definitely hot enough to free another scream from his battered throat.

‘Why?’ He thought, staring into uncaring plastoid faces. 

A bolt shot through his thigh, hauntingly close to the scar he received on Geonosis. 

One simple miss-step, on failure to read his opponent, and he was rewarded with pain. Was something similar happening here? Had he injured his friends so that they had become his enemies? He had seen them mad countless times before, even at him once or twice, but nothing like this. 

What had he done to make them so angry?

The Jedi curled on his side, no longer caring to hold back his sobs. ‘I’m sorry.’

Already he could feel his organs beginning to shut down. Darkness danced before his sight, unconsciousness whispering a sweet song in his ear. 

The end was near. And still the pain continued.

A single tear slid down the Jedi’s battered face.

The last thing Obi-wan Kenobi ever heard was laughter.

\---------------

When he had received the news, it took all Palpatine had to not smile. Let alone cackle manically in delight. He could hardly believe it. He hasn’t expected his idea to work, and yet it did so beautifully. 

Finally the redheaded thorn in his side was gone and disposed of.

Instead he closed his eyes, donning a mask of grief. “I see. It is a shame we have lost Kenobi. He was a good man.”

“One of our best,” Master Windu replied solemnly. Despite his stoic front it was clear he truly was grieving the slain man. The whole idiot Council was.

Good. 

“He had many friends here in the Senate,” Palpatine lied. The senate distrusted the Jedi even more than they did each other. A rather impressive feat, really. “I will gather them here and we shall hold a wake of our own. It is the least we can do for such a prominent hero.”

Of course, old Sheev had been in office long enough to know it wouldn’t take long for grieving to turn to idle socializing. And if Palpatine could play his cards right, he might just convince the assembled fools to step up the war effort, producing more clones in Kenobi’s name.

All of that wouldn’t have been what Kenobi would want. Then again it wasn’t like the man was around to complain.

“That is very kind of you, Chancellor. But I do not believe it is necessary.”

“Nonsense,” Palpatine dismissed. “Let us give the people a day to mourn their fallen hero. It is the least I could do.”

Master Windu gave a respectful bow before ending the transmission.

The second it was clear, Lord Sidious threw back his head and laughed. Not just a mere chuckle, but a full-on gleeful cackle. 

Oh everything was coming together beautifully. He had successfully disposed of a troublesome rival, planted distrust of the clones, and sent Skywalker into delicious emotional turmoil.

Today could not be going better.


End file.
